


this thing was a master piece (until you tore it all up)

by scorpiius (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Badly written smut I'm sorry :(, Because there is no happy ending where they grow up to have fifty kids and a wonderful beach house, Bottom Niall, Broken Friendships, Broken Zayn, Cancer, Cancer!Niall, Character Death, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Hospital Sex, Hospitals, Hurt Niall, Innocent Niall, Kissing, Less 20k, M/M, Making Love, More 15k, More 5k, Multi, Okay please don't read if you hate sad endings, Protective Zayn, Protectiveness, SAD ENDING SAD ENDING, Sad, Sad Ending, Sad Niall, Sad Zayn, Sad sad sad sad, Self Confidence Issues, Tears, Top Zayn, Tragedy, Wakes & Funerals, funeral speech, mentions of self harm, more 10k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/scorpiius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>niall is falling apart and zayn is trying to keep it all together.</p><p>NOTE: Again, I was fairly young when I wrote this and thought that writing huge sentences with lots of description was fun. Looking back, reading it is fairly tedious. Forgive the silly mistakes that I missed seeing as I edited it myself. H x</p>
            </blockquote>





	this thing was a master piece (until you tore it all up)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...  
> So, I'm extremely proud of how this has turned out. It took me a while to do, and thank you to the bestest friend ever Beth for reading through this for me :D  
> All mistakes are my own..  
> (And title is from All Too Well bye Taylor Swift)
> 
> NOTE: Again, I was fairly young when I wrote this and thought that writing huge sentences with lots of description was fun. Looking back, reading it is fairly tedious. Forgive the silly mistakes that I missed seeing as I edited it myself. H x

Zayn swayed back and forth on his feet while he waited at the bus stop, holding onto the straps of his rucksack and stared at the floor, not wanting to make unnecessary eye contact with the surrounding people. Especially seeing as some of them were older women and would probably question why he wasn’t in school, even though he had a completely relevant reason. Screw that, he even had permission from the school to miss a few days given his current circumstance.  
Zayn dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down the material of the straps, humming quietly, only looking up when the bus arrived. He stuffed a hand in the pocket to his jeans, retrieving out a pound and five pence to purchase a ticket, staying quiet as he dropped the money into the paying area and waited patiently for his ticket, staying close to the front of the bus for two reasons. One, there were no free seats and he didn’t feel like sitting by a stranger; and secondly, his stop was only a few away and he didn’t want to risk missing it.  
A few minutes after the bus took off, he felt a vibration in his pocket, followed by three more, and he rolled his eyes before taking out his phone and read the messages without replying.  
Good luck today… Love you bro –Li x  
gud luck. thnkin of u and ni –lou x  
Give him all our love… H .xx  
Zayn frowned a little at the messages, and swallowed thickly, keeping back all the emotions he wanted to let out. Receiving messages like that just gave him a reminder of what he was dealing with and how difficult the situation was. It was a horrible thing to deal with, and he hated having to take the journey every morning to the hospital, getting the same three messages at exactly the same time. They always made him sick to his stomach, and he had to bite back the bile and shut his eyes for a moment to recompose himself.  
“Excuse me, dear,” Zayn looked up, realising the driver was referring to him. “You usually get off here, you zoned out.” She smiled, and he graciously nodded, walking on shaky knees to the exit.  
“Thanks…” Zayn mumbled, sending a small smile to the woman.  
“My pleasure. Don’t know why you’re here, but you come every day. Must mean something.” She shrugged, and Zayn nodded a little after he stepped onto the ground, grateful that he was on non-moving and a flat surface. The bus just made him sicker than usual, all the shaking and the shuffling about to let people on and off, made everything feel ten times worse than it already was.  
He started walking, following the typical paved route around the outskirts of the hospital, staring down at his boots as he walked. Zayn had the route memorised, he’d been here so much in the last two months that it wasn’t difficult to walk anymore. He could tell you where everything was at every step. Step six you would have the local Tesco next to you. Step twenty you would have to turn to the left down the front of the hospital towards the door. Step fifty-five you would be at the entrance. And that’s where he was now. Zayn glanced up, his smile faltering a little when the usual space was filled with the white car, looking like it hadn’t moved in ages. Just another reminder that it was real, that the family were always here by their son’s side. Ultimately the sight made Zayn feel guilty, guilty for not being there every day like they were.  
Zayn walked even more, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallways, only the occasional rumble of a trolley being pushed down that was either a gurney with a body on, or a carriage with medicines on top. Nobody bothered to talk to him, everybody knew his name by now. Or knew what he did. Zayn, the kid who came here every day at exactly seven thirty-five in the morning and stayed until at least midnight, by the side of the blond kid. It was his typical routine.  
He stopped at the elevator to Ward G, the cancer ward, pressed the button and waited a few minutes before the familiar ding rung in his ears, and then stepped in. Pressed the button for the second floor, held back onto his straps and stayed staring at the floor. Nobody was with him anyway, nobody was ever here this early, apart from workers or close family, so people always wondered why Zayn was there so early. He never talked, never looked at anyone, and if he did it was lucky there would be any expression on his face.  
The elevator stopped, the doors sliding open in one swift motion and Zayn stepped out, as though he was wired like a machine to follow this routine every morning. His feet were making him walk before Zayn could process what was happening, walking to the room where he would spend the rest of the day. He walked, and walked, and walked, the hallway seemingly going on forever until he arrived in front of the room, a wide printed ‘2F’ displayed by the side. Zayn turned, walked in and his face lit up ever so slightly when he saw the usual scene in the corner.  
The family surrounding the bed, the mum, dad and brother all seated in different spots with one chair empty to the side of the bed. A tray with easily edible food resting on the patients lap, and a harmonising laugh being elicted from the patient’s mouth as he was told a joke. It was about the only time someone would hear Zayn laugh or see him smile, when he heard that noise or saw what he was witnessing. Zayn would only ever be happy when he was around this boy, his boy. Nobody knew why, but Niall was the only thing that could make Zayn smile.  
“Zee.” Zayn zoned in, his smile widening as his eyes linked with the tired, blue ones of his boyfriend. He walked a little faster into the room, weaving between the touching legs of Niall’s family to the chair by the side of the bed that was always left empty for him. It was Zayn’s chair, anybody in the room (even the other patients and patient’s family) could tell you that. Zayn shrugged off his jacket and laid it across the back of the chair, setting his rucksack to the side of the chair and sat down, taking Niall’s hand in his and tangled their fingers together.  
“Morning, beautiful. How are you?” Zayn asked softly, his voice quiet and gentle. Nobody really suspected Zayn was like this when they first saw him walk in on the day Niall was registered as a patient. The bad boy with tattoo’s covering his arms and biceps, a few littered around his collar bones and over his chest. They all assumed he was here to be a nuisance and cause distractions, definitely not that he would sit down and listen to the blond talk about his day and how he was, his smile widening and lowering at points. But mostly, none of them expected that Zayn would stay from the crack of dawn to the break of the next morning, holding onto the frail hand of his boyfriend, his eyes not once leaving the blond. It was something special, everybody could tell that. Sometimes when Zayn and Niall would both fall asleep, nobody would want to wake either of them up, in fear they were ruining a precious moment between two people who needed each other.  
“Good, apart from the whole cancer thing,” Niall chuckled, his voice hoarse and dry. Zayn smiled, even though Niall used that joke every day, and many people were sick of it, Zayn found it settling how Niall could still find pleasure and happiness in life even when he was dealing with the worst thing ever. “Can you pour me a glass of water?”  
Zayn nodded, letting go of Niall’s hand to half fill the glass with the clear liquid and held it up to Niall’s lips, ignoring his constant whines and complaints, waiting until it was all drunk before setting it make down on the movable table. “Better?” Zayn asked, taking Niall’s hand back in his and smoothed small shaped over the knuckled and bones that were visible.  
Niall nodded and shuffled over on the bed, drawing back the covers a little to make some space and tapped the mattress. “Please?” He whispered, not wanting to strain his voice.  
Zayn looked up at Niall’s parents, particularly his mum, and waited until he got a smile and a small nod before untying his shoes and took off the chains on his jeans, then gently sat down on the bed and lay down next to Niall, pulling the covers back over the two of them. Usually visitors aren’t allowed to lie or sleep with patients, especially patients in Niall’s condition, but nobody had the heart to take either away from the other. Niall needed Zayn, and Zayn needed Niall, even a blind man could see that.  
When Niall was diagnosed with terminal melanoma cancer, nobody had taken it the way Zayn had. Many people had distanced themselves from Niall, some even reacted as ‘he’s going to die anyway’, but Zayn didn’t. When Niall got the letter, he was there, and he sat on Niall’s kitchen floor until four in the morning, cradling his baby in his arms as he cried his eyes out. When Niall had to leave school and go into hospital, he’d been with him, holding onto his hands and glared at anyone who looked at them weirdly. When Niall had asked for Zayn to be with him all the time, he had written into the governors of his school and asked to have time off to spend with Niall, which was accepted since Zayn was an excelling student, and nobody wanted to make either of them sad. When Niall was getting the news of how long he would last, three months tops, he lay in the bed that night, drawing small circles onto his back and promised life would get better.  
One thing that surprised everybody though, was how Zayn reacted when he watched his boyfriend fall to pieces. It was a few months ago, Zayn had woken up to the sound of small sobs and a shaking boy in front of him, and Zayn frowned when he heard Niall murmur “It’s going”, and held up small sections of his blond hair. Niall was already losing weight, his body figure deforming and he was feeling worse and worse about himself every day. He found a razor on the floor one time when Zayn was asleep, and drew a few pretty little scars on his arms. When his family found out they were angry, started shouting and said how wrong it was of him to inflict more pain on himself when he was already suffering, and left without another word. Zayn said nothing. He just lifted his boyfriend’s wrist, examined the small little lines and pressed a trail of small kisses along the bumps before holding Niall close. He still hadn’t said anything, and the only time he addressed Niall’s ever changing looks was a few weeks ago, where he said a simple “You’re still as beautiful as you always were”, just before both of them fell asleep.  
That was when everybody decided to not tear them apart.  
*  
“Zaynie.” Niall whispered, lightly tapping Zayn’s cheek with his thumb, leaning up to press a small kiss to the skin there, and Zayn woke up in an instant, his eyelids fluttering as they adjusted to the changed light.  
“Hey… What’s wrong?” Zayn asked, brushing back some of Niall’s hair and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Niall and smiled at how sweet and innocent he looked.  
“Thirsty. And I couldn’t reach the jug… I’m sorry.” Niall whispered, and Zayn could already tell he was straining his voice, so he sat up properly and filled the glass full of water, not just halfway this time, and handed it to Niall, holding onto the bottom as Niall took small sips of the water.  
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart.” Zayn murmured, setting the glass back down when Niall shied away from the glass.  
“Just feel like I’m bothering you is all.” Niall shrugged as best as he could, licking over his lips when they dried out and gently tugged Zayn back down to him.  
“You could never bother me, love.” Zayn frowned, pressing a line of kisses along Niall’s jawline, not leaving a spot of skin untouched.  
“But-” Niall went to retaliate, but Zayn planted a soft kiss on his lips before he could say anything.  
“Shush, baby. You’re not a bother, you’re not being annoying, I’m fine with it.”  
“But I’m going to die in the end anyway… What’s the point?” Niall said quietly, not wanting Zayn to hear, but he did anyway.  
“Hey, hey no. We’ve talked about this. Look, Ni. Think of it like this; you’re on a train. You got on this train years and year ago, seventeen to be precise. You got on at the stop in Mullingar and drove around from stop to stop, getting off at times to look around, and going around different places. But you always stayed on that same train. And you know every train has a stop, has to terminate at some point. But when you leave that train, you get off and get on a new one or explore that place, but you’re always getting on a different train and adventuring more places. It just so happens that the end of your train is getting close quicker than everyone else’s. But when you go you’ll hop on another train, and another, and another.” Zayn said softly, blinking to keep back the tears that he felt pricking at the inner corner of his eyes.  
“I love when you go all deep and emotional.” Niall smiled, only able to look up at Zayn because he felt weak and tired, and felt bad for wanting to sleep.  
“I love you.” Zayn said quietly, wanting to keep the intimacy of the moment between the two of them.  
“I love you.” Niall agreed, and snuggled back down into Zayn before drifting off into another sleep.  
*  
Zayn stayed awake, sketching on the scrap piece of paper he found on the ledge by the window. He moved off the bed after he noticed Niall had fallen asleep again, and wanted to make it as comfortable as he could for Niall. It was getting late, coming up to ten in the evening, but he didn’t dare leave. He didn’t know what could happen while he was gone, and he promised Niall he would stay with him. Plus, it was times like this where he could be alone to himself, possibly cry a little and let out all the emotions he’d been keeping in.  
Around other people, everyone thought Zayn was fine, secure, and was approaching the situation in the right way. But little did they know that whenever he knew nobody was watching him or paying attention, he cried. He cried a lot. Let the tears run free until there wasn’t anything left and he was sobbing dryly into a cushion, into his knees. Wherever he was.  
Whenever he was around Niall, he didn’t want to inflict all the negativity onto him. He wanted to make him feel loved, let him know that everything was okay, nothing was his fault and that even though he was weak and couldn’t do much he loved him more than anything in the entire world. It hurt though, when he watched Niall from a distance or from his chair. It hurt to watch the love of his life wince in pain when he came across an un-processed piece of meat in his food and cough it back up, looking sadly over at Zayn. It made him want to burst out crying whenever the doctors came back with previous test results and said the cancer was spreading a little more every day, and there was little to no chance of it being removed. They kept trying, kept cutting out the moles and using chemo, but it wasn’t working.  
But inside he was dying, probably as fast as he knew Niall was. He was always trying his best to work at the happy act, but he could tell there were times where Maura gave him a sympathetic smile and suggested he go to the canteen, but she knew he would take a detour and would cry for a while in the bathroom.  
He just found it ridiculously unfair, why was it happening to him, to them? There were plenty of people in the world he would happily wish cancer on, the ones who bullied Niall when he came out, shouted “fag” at them when they walked down the street, making Niall move away from him to prevent further teasing.  
Zayn glanced over at the bed, looking at Niall and felt his heart crack at how pale he looked. The moonlight danced over his relaxed featured, mouth cracked and only damp from where a few droplets of water sat in the dips to the skin. The covers were askew, at a slanted angle and were only partly covering his body, but Zayn didn’t have the heart to go and move them just in case he woke Niall up. He shut his eyes and let out a breath, curling up into a little ball on the ledge and rested his head in his lap, letting his most recent rush of tears flow out.  
Zayn hated times like this. Hated when he was alone and all he could do was cry, for the wrong reasons. All he wanted in life was for the two of them to be ZaynandNiall or NiallandZayn, but that would never happen now. They’d talked about it before, going to Disney and spending a year or so travelling all around America before coming home and raising a family. But that can’t happen. They can’t happen, and Zayn sometimes wishes that he never fell in love with Niall, because if he hadn’t then he wouldn’t be dealing with his now.  
But then he remembers that the boy on the bed, slowly dying from this disease is his entire world, and that they both love each other as much as the other. And that keeps Zayn going, because he has someone he loves. And it could last one more day or three years, but he knew that as long as he had Niall he was never letting him go.  
*  
“Zayn…” Zayn was being shaken, a soothing, deep voice trying to bring him back to consciousness. Zayn groaned quietly, lifting his head and blinking heavily to try and relieve the pain from having his head in his lap all night.  
“Hey, wake up, Zee,” Harry murmured, sitting down in front of Zayn to help him back into normal life, handing him a tissue because there were dry tear stains running down his cheeks. “One of those nights last night?” He asked, and Zayn nodded. “That’s okay. We’ve been here, me, Lou and Liam, for a while. It’s about nine. Ni woke up and ate some food, got a little sad when you weren’t in the bed but when he realised we were here and you were sleeping here he was okay.”  
“Where is he?” Zayn asked, a little worried because Niall wasn’t in the bed and he wasn’t allowed to walk yet, since his body was getting weaker and weaker with every day he was living.  
“He asked to go outside for some fresh air. Louis and the nurse and Maura have gone out with him. He didn’t want you, not in a mean way. He just asked if me and Li would stay here with you.” Harry smiled, presenting the news in a soft tone, which was soothing along with the early morning scratchiness of his voice.  
“He didn’t want me?” Zayn asked, his heart cracking a little. He was always the person Niall wanted, always wanting to be near him, and the bare thought of Niall not wanting to be with him made his heart hurt, his head hurt more and everything suck a little extra.  
“No, Zee. He did want you. We were gonna wake you up and he said no, we should let you sleep because he could tell you were shattered, needed some rest. He then asked if he could go, he wanted to go alone but that wasn’t allowed. He does want you, don’t think he doesn’t.” Harry smiled, shuffling closer to Zayn and engulfed him in a relaxing hug, rubbing small circles into his back and he was envious of Louis at this point. Because Louis got to lie with Harry and cuddle with Harry and have Harry soothing him whenever he was said. Whereas Zayn was left with a dying boyfriend, barely managing to keep himself together, let alone Niall.  
“Oh, okay. Is he going to be gone long?” Zayn asked again, not bothered that he was probably being annoying with his questions.  
“He’s here now. Speak of the devil.” Harry smiled, moving back over to one of the double-seated chairs, wrapping an arm securely around Louis when he sat next to him. Zayn looked up with a small smile, moving quickly over to his chair and sat down, watching with a smile as the nurse and Liam helped Niall back onto his bed.  
“Morning, baby.” Zayn smiled, running his fingers through the pale remains of Niall’s once blond hair, holding onto his hand with both of his, squeezing it slightly in case he hurt him.  
“Hi… You weren’t in my bed this morning. Are you okay?” Niall asked with a frown, and Zayn returned the gesture with a tight smile, nodding ever so slightly.  
“Yeah, love. I’m fine. I wanted to give you some more space, and fell asleep before I got the chance to leave. If it helps, the window ledge isn’t anything compared to how you feel, not as comfortable.” Zayn chuckled, leaning over to press a light kiss to Niall’s cheek, feeling a little bad for being so gentle. He just really didn’t want to risk hurting Niall, whether it would be a lot or a little. If he ever inflicted pain onto Niall, he would never forgive himself. He didn’t care how many times Niall would argue with “I’m not made of glass, Malik. You can kiss me,” he would never risk it.  
“Good. I don’t like thinking you’re sad. I got something for you,” Niall smiled with tired eyes, his smile widening ever so slightly when the nurse handed him a flower, which he handed straight over to Zayn. “Purple tulip, your favourite flower and my favourite colour. A little bit of me and you for you to keep.”  
Zayn took the flower between his fingers, his smile staying small but it reached to his eyes, the colour lighting up in happiness. “I love it… I love you.” He mumbled, pouring out a glass of water and put the tulip in there, staring at it with such an affectionate look. It just gave him this nice reminder that even though Niall was slowly fading out his life, he remembered stuff like this. His favourite flower, and it made everything feel so domestic and nice for a change, like it could last forever. Only he knew it couldn’t.  
“I love you so much more. Always have.” Niall whispered, his voice struggling again. Zayn instinctively poured another half glass of water, holding it to Niall’s lips and smiled a little as he watched Niall slowly swallow the drink.  
“Impossible.”  
*  
It was just the five of them now, like it should always be. Not that Zayn didn’t like when Niall’s family were around, he just preferred having the friends. The best friends. It made everything feel like a nice sleepover that they used to have, usually at Niall’s house. There would be him and Niall, lounging all cuddled up on the bed, Louis and Harry snuggled up in the corner, trying to be subtle with their little Eskimo kisses, and Liam (usually texting a girl, but they “aren’t a couple!”, even thought everybody knew they were).  
Zayn looked up from his book, a book he probably shouldn’t be reading because it was ultimately going to make the situation worse. It was one Niall gave him for last Christmas, The Fault in Our Stars. Everybody seemed to know the plot, and Zayn had to desperately try to not cry whenever he read a part. Zayn glanced around the room, his eyes settling on each of his friends, scrap that – his family, and a small smile reached his face. First there was Louis.  
Louis. Usually the most confident out of all of them, always making a joke or laughing about something that he tried desperately to make a happy situation. He was good looking, the oldest one of their group, actually. Only by a few months, then it was Niall, Liam, Zayn and Harry. Zayn liked Louis, he liked Louis a lot. Because Louis was the only person except for Niall who could make him happy. Not that Harry or Liam couldn’t, they just didn’t know what to say. Their conversations mainly consisted of a flow of “it’ll be okay’s”, but with Louis it was different. They could have a conversation about a new tattoo either had got, or discuss different hair gels and it just made Zayn happy, happy that someone was trying their best to take away the reminder that his boyfriend was dying next to him. There was really no surprise when Zayn got a message one night with a random scramble of letters printed over the screen, and he didn’t even need the next message (HARRY SAID YES!!!!) to guess that had happened. He was happy for Louis, he really was. He’d been pining over Harry for a huge amount of times, and anybody could’ve guessed they were together, even when they weren’t.  
Harry was different, different in his own cute and sweet way. He was young; he didn’t know much about heartbreak or problems because he had people around him to make everything good and easy for him. And Zayn envied that, envied that Harry could go on so perfectly in his life with his perfect boyfriend, perfect healthy boyfriend. Zayn wasn’t as close to Harry as he was to the rest of them. Harry was young, quite so actually, and whenever he tried to talk to Zayn there would always be a “how was Niall?” or a “he’ll be fine”, and it took all of Zayn’s willpower to not hit Harry at times.  
Then there was Liam. Liam was undoubtedly the most distant one. They were close, really close, and had been since the start of primary school. But when Niall was diagnosed everything changed. He became quiet, stopped hanging out with them, spent more time texting his girlfriend (“She’s just a friend!), and Zayn new why. He seemed to be the only person who noticed it all though. He was the only person who noticed that whenever Zayn and Niall weren’t cuddling, Liam was right there by his side, mimicking the moves and the small gestures. Everybody knew that before Zayn and Niall were together, Liam was smitten with Niall. Zayn couldn’t blame him, because well, Niall was perfect in every way imaginable. He just wished that it hadn’t been Niall who Liam liked, because it was tearing their friendship apart, and Zayn knew that when he lost Niall he wouldn’t be able to go on without one of his best friends.  
“Zee.” It was Niall, lightly tapping his arm. Zayn noticed how Niall’s eyes were a little red, possibly tear-stained and hurting from the saltiness of his tears.  
“Here, baby.” Zayn cooed quietly, lying back down and threaded his fingers through Niall’s hair, sighing quietly when he felt a few of the precious locks follow his actions and drift painlessly from his head.  
“Hungry. Can’t reach the tray.” Niall mumbled, and Zayn watched in extreme detail as Niall’s Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed thickly. Zayn nodded slightly, ever so lightly pressing a small kiss to Niall’s cheek before reaching over his frail frame and pulled the tray over, carefully shuffled to the side and levitated the bed. Zayn couldn’t help the ache in his heart as he watched Niall wince from the movement, and tried harder to brush away the mental images of him and Niall growing old together in a retirement home, chuckling as the other complained about the pain in their back and how they weren’t young anymore.  
“Here, sugar.” Zayn smiled, cutting up some of the meat into miniscule pieces, pouring a glass of water for Niall to have as well. He watched as a trembling hand took a spoonful of the mushed up mixture that awfully resembled baby food, (Zayn had to brush away the thoughts of him and Niall having a baby together) and disappeared in the cracked and pale lips of his boyfriend. Nobody would believe Zayn when he said that Niall’s lips were still as soft as velvety cushions.  
It continued like that, Niall taking tiny spoonful’s of the foot his nurse presented him with earlier, taking a cautious drink from his water whenever the food became too much; Zayn watching him with soft and gentle eyes, wondering how it was even possible for someone to look as flawless and beautiful as Niall did in his state.  
“Done?” Zayn asked quietly when it seemed like Niall was moving back from the food, but frowned when Niall shook his head. It took him a second to realise what was happening when Niall screwed his eyes shut, and picked up one of the sick bowls quickly, holding it over his lap as Niall weakly leaned over and emptied the remains of his stomach. The small choking noises snapped Zayn into a million pieces, and it took all his might to not cry from how painful it sounded. He just pressed kisses over Niall’s hair, rubbing circles in his back and whispered reassuring words of love and happiness.  
“Should I?” Louis asked, holding the button to the nurse, and Zayn nodded, leaning back a little so he could see Niall better, looking away when he saw the contents of the bowl continue.  
“I’m so sorry…” Niall mustered out, his throat scratchy and sore and Zayn let out a shaky breath. “I’m so disgusting and worthless that I can’t even keep my own food down. Such an incoherent child.”  
“No,” Zayn whispered, his voice wavering at the sound of defeat in Niall’s voice. “No you aren’t. You’re amazing and strong and beautiful and perfect. You’re worth the world, Ni.” He murmured, noticing now how Liam and Harry were watching as Niall’s nurse pulled up a tray and a disposable bag, gently taking away the sick bowl and discarded the contents and the bowl into the bag.  
“Why do you stay with me? I’m pathetic.” Niall asked, sniffling quietly as he was lay back down on the bed, the elevation being lowered to a small angle so he couldn’t choke on his vomit if he threw up again, but was flat enough for him to rest.  
“Because,” Zayn shrugged, staying sat up and alert again. “I love you, and everything I say is true.”  
“But I can’t do anything for you. We can’t be like Louis and Harry, we never will be. I’m nothing now, and you know it’s true.” Niall cried, and Zayn enveloped him into a cuddle, tighter than his normal ones because he needed to show his boy how much he loved and appreciated him.  
“I don’t care if we’re not like Louis and Harry. We aren’t those. We’re Zayn and Niall, Niall and Zayn, two different people, one different couple. You’re everything, always have been always will be.” Zayn said softly, brushing his thumb under Niall’s waterline to take away any tears.  
“You gave me a forever within numbered days, and I’m grateful.” Niall mumbled, slowly drifting off and it hit Zayn again. Their time was running out, and he’d only have Niall for a short amount of time, and he wanted to cry and laugh.  
Cry because he was losing his baby. And laugh because Niall deliberately quoted The Fault in Our Stars, and was falling asleep with a visible grin on his face.  
*  
It was later on, and Zayn noticed that he and Niall were alone again. Completely alone. It was getting a little dark, but Niall was reading a book, he wasn’t sure which one, but he didn’t really care because Niall was happy and calm and peaceful. Zayn lay down on his back, one hand still holding onto Niall’s, tracing and following the lines on his palm.  
“Zayn…”  
“Yeah?” Zayn asked, turning to look at Niall, who had placed a bookmark on his page and had gently set the book on the table. Zayn liked that, found it interesting how Niall was now taking care with everything he did, as though if he didn’t he would shatter the item, even if it was something like a book and couldn’t break.  
“Would you hate me if I said I wanted to do something?” Niall asked quietly, this time his voice being genuinely quiet, not being hoarse or struggling. Niall wanted it to be quiet.  
“Do what?” Zayn mumbled, turning on his side so he was fully facing Niall, dragging his fingers through the fuzziness of Niall’s – remaining- hair.  
Niall swallowed thickly and moved about so he was hiding away into Zayn, his cheeks flushing a beautiful fuchsia colour. “You know… Me, you…”  
Zayn smiled. “Sex?” He asked quietly, and Niall nodded. “Are you sure? Strong enough?”  
“Yeah, yeah, but not like… Before, can it be like making love, or whatever people say. It might be the last time…”  
“Don’t,” Zayn cut him off, pressing a firm kiss to Niall’s lips. “It won’t be the last time. But okay, yeah. Sure, whatever you want. Have you had your pain killers?”  
Niall nodded again. “Had them before Lou, Haz and Li left. You were just about falling asleep, didn’t have the heart to wake you up.” He shrugged, pushing the covers off of his knees and Zayn folded them up neatly at the foot of the bed.  
“Good. If you want me to stop, you know what to do. You remember the safe word, right?”  
Niall chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Of course I do, how couldn’t I? Splish,” Zayn blushed, knowing Niall was going to dive into the story (pun intended.) “Because when we were in Wales, swimming in the swimming pool you foolishly decided to jump in even though you couldn’t swim, and started squealing ‘Splish, splish, splish!’ everywhere.”  
“Shut up.” Zayn muttered, repositioning himself on top of Niall. This wasn’t the first time they’d done intimate acts in the hospital, so Zayn knew what he could and couldn’t do, where he could and couldn’t touch.  
“Sure?” Zayn asked again, slowly rolling up the hem to Niall’s gown, biting back a tease he used many times before about cross-dressing.  
“Yes, for darns sake.” Niall smiled, not being able to even fake dislike Zayn, because he loved him and couldn’t stand being harsh for a second.  
“Alrighty then,” Zayn shrugged, slowly pulling down Niall’s boxer shorts (which Niall isn’t supposed to wear but he refused to be commando on a hospital bed with others around him), and set them to the side. “Still beautiful.” He murmured, running his fingers over the delicate bones that were visible through the slightly discoloured skin on Niall’s torso. He meant it, though, he always meant his compliments.  
“M’not…” Niall argued quietly, his eyes fluttering shut from the contrast in temperatures. The hot air of the room was quickly taken over by the cold from Zayn’s fingertips, and it turned his skin in a battle of feeling like ice or feeling like fire. “Gentle?”  
“Yeah, wouldn’t be anything else.” Zayn assured, kneeling on the bed and struggled to pull down his jeans, glaring jokingly at Niall when his boyfriend laughed quietly at his struggles. Eventually, Zayn had managed to get bottom half bare, and was sitting gently on top of Niall’s legs.  
“You look unsure.” Niall frowned, reaching up to card his fingers through Zayn’s soft hair.  
“Not, I promise. Just admiring you.” Zayn shrugged, taking out a foil packet and a small tube of lube he kept in his pockets, just in case of emergencies. He always bought a little more lube now Niall was in the hospital, didn’t want to be bringing any unnecessary pain onto him.  
“Softie.” Niall joked, spreading his legs a little so Zayn had better access.  
“Sure?” Zayn checked again, spreading a lot more than usual of the lube over his fingers.  
“Sure sure. Making every moment last, aren’t we?” Niall shrugged, whimpering quietly when he felt the cool of the lube being traced around his rim.  
“Guess we are.” Zayn agreed with a smile, ever so gently pushing in his first finger, continually topping up the skin with lube. He could tell by Niall’s expression the stretch hurt, but there was still a small smile, barely visible, spreading over his face, a little bit of his rare dimple showing on his right cheek.  
“Good?” Zayn checked, keeping his finger settled when he was knuckle-deep, already smiling with pride at how strong his baby was.  
“Yeah…” Niall stuttered, his voice faint, but sure. Zayn nodded and leaned up to Niall, pressing a passionate and soft kiss to his lips as he withdrew the first fingers, topping up the lube before pressing in a second finger. Niall whined a little underneath him, his hand holding onto Zayn’s wrist as tight as he could and Zayn instantly stopped with his movements.  
“Splish?” Zayn asked, pulling back so their noses were brushing.  
Niall shook his head. “No… Stop for a second. The stretch.” Zayn nodded, simply brushing his lips around Niall’s jaw, whispering small loving words and compliments to him until he felt Niall let go of his wrist, and slowly continued pushing his fingers into Niall.  
Zayn bit down on his lip and nuzzled his head into the crook of Niall’s neck, stopping his movements again when both fingers were deep within Niall now. He hated to admit that he preferred this type of sex to any other types that they’ve always had. It was slow, soft and gentle, both always reassuring the other that they were okay.  
“You can pull out if you want, just say it.” Niall mumbled, turning his head to look at Zayn with a small sigh, sensing him stopping every so often.  
“No… I’m not reluctant. Just don’t want to hurt you, baby.” Zayn said, slowly starting to stretch Niall a little more, widening his fingers into what he supposed would be a wonky ‘V’, swallowing thickly as he elicted small, tiny moans from his fragile boyfriend.  
“Stop, stop. It hurts.” Niall yelped, and Zayn sat right back up straight away, surprised when Niall was holding onto his wrist to keep him inside.  
“Let me come out, what’s wrong?” Zayn asked, his eyebrow’s furrowing together when he saw Niall shake his head.  
“Not that, your knee was on my leg. M’sorry… We shouldn’t…” Niall blushed, shutting his eyes with a shake of his head.  
“Oh,” Zayn whispered, moving his legs about so they were held together and so he was out of the way of Niall’s legs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was there… Do you want to keep going?” He inquired, letting his fingers fall through Niall’s hair.  
“Yeah… Yeah I do, it’s okay. Go, I’m done… Slow, gentle. Please.” Niall sighed, laying out weak and tired on the bed and Zayn just knew he was going, slowly losing the energy. All the times before, Niall had been active, trying to help but now he was just giving himself up to Zayn, and Zayn was slowly losing the love he had for this. The fact that Niall was so weak he couldn’t really help Zayn, and couldn’t tell him what to do, or whatever, it just made Zayn want to stop, but he didn’t.  
“Told you already, wouldn’t be anything else.” Zayn murmured, pulling his fingers out and wiped them on his shirt, taking out the bottle again and held up the condom for Niall to look at.  
“Yeah, or no?” Zayn asked, pressing a trail of kisses along Niall’s collar bones.  
“No… Wanna feel you, just in case…” Niall trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence because he knew that it would upset Zayn. Zayn nodded, putting the foil packet back into his jeans and opened the cap to the lube, drizzling a lot more than usual over his cock, making sure he was pretty much all covered up, then shuffled closer to Niall, carefully lining himself up.  
“Forever.” Zayn murmured, pushing in his tip and stopped there when Niall clutched onto his arm, brushing his nose over Niall’s cheek, pressing a small kiss to the skin there.  
“Forever?” Niall asked, his voice slowly escaping him.  
“Nothing less.” Zayn replied, pushing in inch by inch, stopping every small amount so Niall could get used to the stretch, possibly the burn.  
“I love you, I love you. So much.” Niall whimpered, trying his best to put effort into it by lifting his hips, but it wasn’t working out and Zayn kept back his sadness and emotion.  
“I know,” Zayn sighed, staying still when he bottomed out, being cautious of where he out his hands in case he put pressure onto a muscle or a bone that could hurt Niall even more than he already had done. “I love you, too. Forever and always.”  
Niall nodded, staying quiet and pliant underneath Zayn, only making a small movement of a nod of his head to tell Zayn he was good, then became a small mess of whines and quiet moans, his voice being stretched to the max, where in his noises sounded like sandpaper was scratching in his throat, but Zayn didn’t care. Because it was him and Niall, and when they were together nothing else mattered in the world.  
Zayn slowly pulled out, keeping everything gentle and treating Niall like he was a feather, and that one wrong move could shatter him into a thousand pieces. He waited again, about half a minute before sinking back into Niall, the tightness and feel of his inner walls extracting a sweet, throaty whimper from Zayn. He built up a rhythm, slow and gentle, following what Niall said he wanted.  
“Please-” Niall stuttered, his head rolling around on the pillow as he tried to find his lover’s lips, reconnecting them with a content sigh. They were like that for a while, Zayn slowly slipping in and out, lusting over the feel of Niall, treating him like a precious gem that could fall to pieces with one wrong move; Niall shaking a little, holding onto Zayn’s arm with a vice grip, continually pressing small kisses along Zayn’s jaw, taking the most of his opportunities to kiss Zayn.  
“Nearly.” Zayn murmured, slowing down a little because he could drown in the feeling of this, stay here forever, like the two of them were glued together and the only think that surrounded them was the feeling of pure love.  
“Snap,” Niall whispered, his voice cracking after each sound, eyes fluttering shut as his lips detached from the underside of Zayn’s neck, falling into the pillows. It took a few more minutes, a few more painfully slow thrusts before Zayn let loose, collapsing on top of Niall, giggling a little from the feeling of Niall following suit, spilling over their chests. It left a ticklish, funny feeling around his belly-button, and Zayn really, really wished that the substance was glue, and it would trap the two souls together.  
That’s what Zayn believed; believed that they were twin souls, taken apart at birth and had to find themselves again, connect themselves with each other again. There was no other explanation, nothing that could really describe what Niall and Zayn had. Zayn had done research on the concept of twin souls (or twin flames) for a psychology report, and he knew that that’s what he and Niall were. Just hearing his laugh from the other side of the auditorium while he sketched the stage, it sounded familiar, and just by luck when they met each other’s gazes he knew he’d seen Niall somewhere else, but not in this life time. Everything else followed course, fitting the descriptions put forth about the concept. His heart fluttered and yearned when he saw Niall, the wisps of blonder hair (love at first sight), having an artist and a jock meeting in the drama auditorium (unusual meeting), his whole body aching when he wasn’t near his boyfriend, even when they weren’t dating (separated yet together), being able to sense when Niall was sad and cuddled him for hours whenever he was sad, either about not winning a game or something more personal (knowing what the other was feeling). Everything fit together like a jigsaw, and it all clicked in Zayn; he discovered a love for football and sport, Zayn always attending Niall’s football games as a support, being able to talk to Niall about anything, whether awkward, personal or just about a joke Harry told him earlier in the day. He even felt different about the sex, it didn’t feel meaningless anymore, it had a meaning, like they were sharing something that was so private and precious. Zayn could vividly remember the day that Niall said he wanted to give himself up, which surprised Zayn in many ways, but he happily obliged. And how Niall made him feel just complete, like he had been missing a piece of him for years and years, Niall was that piece. Niall was part of him that he needed, but he was losing him again, and he couldn’t hold on any longer.  
“Zee… You awake?” Niall asked, pushing weakly at Zayn and he could tell he was obviously hurting Niall, and he didn’t want to be.  
“Yeah, yeah sorry. Just got distracted.” Zayn smiled, pulling out gently and cleaned himself up with his shirt, wiping over Niall’s chest with the shirt as well, being gentle around his bones and cuts from needles and the skin tearing from the frailness.  
“What over?” Niall asked, shuffling over to the side so Zayn could lie next to him again. Zayn dumped his shirt to the side, fixing Niall’s clothes, leaving the boxer shorts off just because, and dressed himself as best he could, then lay down again.  
“Us.” Zayn shrugged simply, letting out a small, happy sigh.  
“Us?” Niall repeated, a small smile crossing over his face and lighting up the eyes, even in the darkness.  
“Yeah. Us. Me and you, how we met. Everything, really.” Zayn murmured, not really wanting to get into detail but wanted to talk none the less.  
“I’ve never thanked you.” Niall sighed, shuffling so he was on his side and was laying against Zayn, looking up into his boyfriend’s russet-looking coloured eyes.  
“Why would you need to thank me?” Zayn asked, head tilting to the side so the moonlight washed over Niall’s skin, making it look pale and shiny, and Zayn wanted to kiss over every inch that he could.  
“For loving me. Staying with me for all this…” Niall started.  
“Please don’t… Not now. I don’t want to talk about this.” Zayn frowned.  
“No, baby. Not the death talk, we’ve had this. I want to tell you what you’ve given me. You’re always talking about how amazing I am, but you never compliment yourself enough,” Niall smiled, pressing a light kiss to the visible collar bone on Zayn’s left side. “Thank you, for staying quiet.”  
Zayn chuckled. “It’s fine. I like hearing your voice.”  
Niall nodded. “I like yours too, but shush for now. As I was saying, I’ve never thanked you. Never thanked you for being so good to me. You could’ve dropped me and left me the second I got the letter, but you didn’t. You stayed; you stayed and listened to me cry, held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. You’ve shown me love, shown me that there is someone for everyone out there. That true love exists. Before you I thought I would be alone forever, that nobody would ever want to be with me because nobody bothered, or people just wanted me so they could use me or whatever. You didn’t… You came and you stayed. You’ve sat here for the past two months being amazing, perfect. And I wish so badly that I could stay and make everything okay, that I could be the perfect person. I’m so, so sorry that this happened to me, you and us. If I could I would give you the entire world, because you’re worth it.”  
“I love you.” Zayn mustered out, not really caring that there were tears because it was Niall; he had this effect on him. Made him feel like he was the only person who mattered, and he loved him. Loved him so much that he felt like his heart could burst.  
“I love you.” Niall replied, a smile still tugging on his lips as he struggled to kiss Zayn again.  
“I know.”  
“Good. I always will.”  
“I know,” Zayn said. “I’ll never stop loving you.” He continued.  
“I know.”  
“You’re perfect.” Zayn complimented.  
“You are. We are.” Niall smiled.  
“I know.” Zayn kissed him again.  
“Sleep.” Niall murmured, snuggling down into the pillow.  
“Okay,” Zayn shrugged. “Love you.”  
“Shut up,” Niall giggled, his body shaking from the cold. “And I know. And guess what?”  
Zayn rolled his eyes, closing them after. “You love me too.”  
“Bingo.”  
*  
It was a few months later on, and nothing had really changed. Zayn had spent every free moment (basically every moment) with Niall, even revising for his finals when Niall was resting or out of the room for treatment. It was his life now, waking up early so he could get to Niall in time for him waking up, spend every living moment with him, seeing his family on rare occasions. But his family didn’t mind, they also knew how much Zayn needed Niall. Everybody knew now, absolutely everybody.  
The only thing that was changing was that Niall was allowed to be discharged. It had all started when they were told Niall had a few months to live, three at the max, and now as three months was drawing closer, everyone wanted Niall home. Nobody wanted him dying in a hospital surround by doctors and strangers. They wanted him at home, in his house, with Zayn by his side and the familiar scent of cinnamon and fruit filling his senses. So his family and Zayn fought for months over this, insisting they would be good and care for him, look after him like they should and finally, finally, they were allowed to take him home.  
“Ready, baby?” Zayn asked with a small smile, looking at Niall in his wheelchair. Just because Niall was being discharged didn’t mean he was getting better, he was getting worse. He couldn’t walk anymore, his legs having given up completely on him from the cancer spreading around there. Niall had argued the toss against not having the chair, but Zayn rolled his eyes every time and said it made him look cuter, so Niall eventually shut up.  
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Niall shrugged, holding onto his small bag with photos, clothes and other items he’d collected over the past half a year of being in the hospital. He was smiling more, Zayn had noticed, and it made him happier than he could express. For a while Niall had been so sad and so negative, and Zayn wanted to force him to smile. But now he was glowing, and not many people would be able to guess he was ill, apart from the bandana on his head.  
That was really the only thing that still made Niall upset. He had, simply, no hair left. It had all fallen out one night, and he’d woken up Zayn with tiny shudders and whispers saying “so ugly” and “how can you still love me?” Zayn hated that. So the next day he came in he had a bag, from this high-end fashion store Niall had never heard of, and pulled out a mix of cute bandanas, including one of Zayn’s own one. (It’s fair to say the shop bought ones were rarely ever worn, only when Zayn’s had to be washed.)  
“Good. We’ll sign you out and then your parents are outside.” Zayn smiled, laying his jacket over Niall’s shoulders and started pushing him out the door, looking behind him at the bed in the corner. The sheets were perfectly made, not a crease in sight with the pillows perfectly fluffed up. Zayn felt his heart flutter at the thought of never having to be here ever again, and thought a small “good luck” to whoever would have to stay there next.  
“I’m proud of you.” Niall said, his voice getting better from him being able to eat food properly now. He did have a tube hooked over his left ear and lay inside his nostril, a small pouch of oxygen attached to the wheelchair just in case Niall struggled at breathing.  
Zayn tilted his head to the side. “Proud of me? Why? I’m more proud of you.”  
“I dunno. Just am. You’re being really strong. We know what’s happening but look at you, trying your best and looking after yourself and me. Makes my heart swell with pride.” Niall chuckled, looking around at all the nurses and gave them a small smile whenever they gave him a good ‘good luck, Niall! You’ve done amazing!’  
“Ah, Mr Niall Horan. Today the day is it?” One of the nurses, Kate, smiled as Zayn stopped by the counter.  
Niall nodded, a wide smile on his face, making his cheeks fill out and eyes gleam with such happiness and delight that Zayn could die right there and then because that was the dying image he wanted to see. “Yup, finally going. Living my life again.”  
“I’m happy for you.” Kate laughed, typing on the computer and took out some papers for Zayn to sign, keeping up a light conversation with Niall.  
“I’m more happy for Zee, though.” Niall shrugged, and Kate tucked some of her hair behind her ear and looked to the tan-skinned boy.  
“Oh. This is who this boy is. Swear, every morning I saw him walk up here but never said a word to anybody. Asked all the girls if they knew who he was and just said ‘visitor’, but I knew he must be a special visitor if he came every day and sometimes never left.” Kate rambled out, drumming her manicured nails over the counter, murmuring a thank you when Zayn handed the papers back.  
“He is special. Very special.” Niall nodded, making a pouty face to Zayn, who rolled his eyes and pressed a small kiss to his lips.  
“Love you.” Zayn smiled.  
“Okay, we’re done here. You can leave. Have fun, Niall. We’ll miss you here.” Kate said, putting the files away and looked between Niall and Zayn.  
Zayn nodded slightly, his smile never faltering at all because it was happening, this was happening. Niall was in a good enough state to leave, and they were still together. It was finally playing out right, and they were being treated nicely by the world. Zayn just chose to ignore the fact that the only reason Niall was discharged was because his family wanted him to die at home. No, Zayn just pulled up the smile and insisted that Niall was coming home because he was healthy, because he looked it and was acting it.  
Zayn turned the wheelchair around, being slow and careful as he spun it around, pushing Niall down the hallway again, glancing down at Niall every so often whose hands were fiddling about from the nervousness, and one of them was also holding the purple tulip he bought Zayn in ages ago. Zayn leaned down, lightly kissed the top of Niall’s head and hummed quietly to himself.  
“Zayn! Here please, love.” Zayn looked up when Maura called at him, gasping a little when the cold air and rain hit him. That was a downside, and he stayed under the shelter of the hospital for a moment so he could take his jacket from around Niall’s shoulders and draped it over his body, and quickly rushed over to the back of the minivan hired to drive Niall home, taking a moment outside while Maura and the driver helped life the wheelchair up into the back, letting Zayn in afterwards.  
“You okay?” Niall asked with a smiled, holding onto the side and wheeled himself to the side so he was sitting in front of Zayn, patting his lap so Zayn could kick his legs up. Softly, Zayn lifted his legs and set them on Niall’s lap, smiling a little as Niall untied the laces to his sneakers and played about with them.  
“Cold, really cold.” Zayn smiled, looking over at Niall with a small sigh.  
“I can see. Want your jacket?”  
Zayn shook his head. “You look cute in it, I don’t need it. The heating is on anyway.” He shrugged, jumping a little when the minivan started.  
“Okay,” Niall smiled, his voice soft and quiet and Zayn couldn’t help but smile when Niall’s nose scrunched up from the distraction of the pipe in his nose. “Why’re you staring?”  
“No reason,” Zayn grinned, looking into his lap, yelping a little when Niall pinched his foot. “Okay, fine. You looked cute when you scrunched up your nose…”  
Niall rolled his eyes, going back to fiddling with the laces on Zayn’s sneakers. Zayn could get used to this, doing these things with Niall. Niall pulled a little too tightly when the minivan jerked, and huffed quietly. And, yeah, Zayn could get used to this.  
*  
A few days later, Zayn didn’t know how, all five of them were joined back together for the first time in a long while. He’d seen them all individually, sometimes two of them, but never the three, and there hadn’t been a time where all five best friends had been together in a long, long while. But here they were, at Niall’s house, sitting in their usual spaces. Zayn and Niall cuddled up on his bed, Harry and Louis snuggling in the corner, and Liam texting his (now official) girlfriend. A wave of nausea washed over Zayn, and he didn’t like it, but he did at the same time.  
They were watching a film, Baz Luhrmann’s version of Romeo and Juliet. It was one of Zayn’s favourite films, as it was Niall’s, so he took the chance to cuddle as an honour.  
“How long are we going to be like this?” It was Louis to speak up first, glancing between the group. “How long are we going to ignore each other and pretend that the past three months haven’t happened?”  
There was a collective silence, and it was Harry who gently told Louis to shush, brushing his hand down his torso.  
“I’m not going to shush, Harry,” Louis snapped, pushing his hand away and shut off the TV, causing a ripple of complaints from Zayn and Niall. “For fuck’s sake! Niall is dying! Our best friend is dying!” Zayn winced, not liking the situation being put into that context.  
“Lou, baby please.” Harry sighed, standing up to hold onto Louis’’ wrist, only to be shoved back into a cabinet.  
“Fuck off. Don’t be all ‘Oh Lou, come on sweetheart’ on me. What the fuck happened to us? We used to be inseparable, we’re all drifting, what are we doing now? Liam, you’re being so ridiculous, you haven’t said a word to anybody in the entire time we’ve been here. Harry, you’re being so oblivious to the fact that Niall isn’t okay, and you Zayn. What the fuck is up with you?” Louis shouted, and Zayn was confused and sad to what was happening. He’d been expecting it, he really had, but he just didn’t want to discuss this right now.  
“Excuse me? What have I done Louis?” Zayn hissed, standing up from the bed so he was matching their heights.  
“You haven’t been giving a fuck the entire time. You’re doing nothing.”  
“What the fuck,” Zayn snapped, his fist clenching in a bone-breaking grip. “I haven’t been giving a fuck? Louis, I’ve spent the best part of the last six fucking months sitting by his bed side, looking after Niall and keeping everything together. I’ve kept everything in and cried when I’m alone, given up my education, had to write so many essay’s at midnight in the hospital, to get my mum to hand in the next day. Why are you acting like you’re so innocent?”  
“Guys,” Harry huffed, holding onto his wrist because Louis had pushed him so he hit it into a glass, and Zayn could see some blood oozing out of a cut. “Grow up, stop it.”  
“Fuck off,” Louis muttered. “But, oh, Zayn. You spent time in the hospital? That makes you the best person in the world, right? You haven’t been falling apart, watching everybody fall apart around you, and have to pick up the pieces.”  
Zayn’s eyes narrowed, his glare settling right into Louis’ eyes. “I have been falling apart, Louis. I’ve been crying every single night when my boyfriend fell asleep. You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve been through, how I’m feeling. You’ve done fuck all for this situation. Just sat and cuddled Harry, taking advantage of what you have and didn’t give a shit about what I was feeling. I’ve been picking up the pieces of myself, and Niall and his entire family. You don’t know how many times I’ve lay down with Niall and let him sob into my arms, how many times I’ve reassured him. While all the while you were being a prat about the situation. Look at you now; you just threw your boyfriend into a cabinet. How can you call yourself a good person?”  
“When did I ever say that?” Louis questioned, voice sharp and sour, the disgust oozing off his tongue.  
“You’re implying it.” Zayn muttered, eyes rolling.  
“There’s a difference.”  
“Leave.” Niall spoke up, and everyone turned to look at him. Zayn frowned, there were tears running down his cheeks, his hands holding tightly onto the blanket it looked as though he was going to cut off his circulation.  
“Pardon?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow at Niall.  
“I said leave. All of you, except for Zayn. Get the hell out of my house. If you think I’m going to sit here while you argue and insult my boyfriend, you can leave and you can never come back.” Niall said, emotionless with a plain expression. Zayn smiled, walking back to the bed and sat on the side, fingers instinctively brushing away the tears.  
“What?” Harry asked, still cradling his arm.  
“Are you incoherent? I said go,” Niall muttered, pulling Zayn down beside him, ignoring everyone else. “And unless you’re coming back to apologise, don’t bother coming back here.”  
After a few minutes, a few moments of a horrible silence; they left. None of them said a word, and neither did Zayn or Niall until Niall spoke up.  
“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbled, and Zayn turned to look at his boyfriend, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.  
“Come again?” Zayn asked.  
“What you were saying then. I basically took everything good away from your life, didn’t I? Sorry, I guess. I should probably die a little quicker so you can have it all back.” Niall smiled weakly, settling down into his cushion as Zayn drew the covers over his body.  
“No, shh, babe. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the only good thing in my life, you haven’t gone yet.” Zayn sighed, taking one of Niall’s hands and laced their fingers together.  
“Sure?” Niall asked, looking up at Zayn.  
“Positive, you should sleep now, baby.” Zayn said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Niall’s lips. He really wouldn’t be able to get over the feel and the taste of Niall’s lips, just hoe soft and beautiful they were.  
“Okay,” Niall murmured. “Night.”  
“Love you.” Zayn smiled.  
“Love you.”  
“I know.” They said in sync, the line of chuckles dying off after a few minutes.  
*  
Zayn should have been expecting it, really. Honestly, he was. He just didn’t think it would happen so quickly.  
It was mid-October, an entire month after Niall was discharged and was living at home, two months after how long the doctor’s thought he would last. A month and fifteen days since Zayn had last seen Louis, Liam and Harry.  
Zayn was sleeping on the chair by the side of Niall’s bed which was downstairs, simply because it was easy to access and he could be moved about in his wheelchair without having troubles doing so. He was sleeping nicely, calmly, but he was woken up by the feel of Niall squeezing too tightly on his hand. He shot up, wincing form the pain and looked immediately over at Niall, his heart stopping when he saw the rise and fall of his chest being much too slow. Once every minute, as far as Zayn could tell.  
“Ni, baby.” Zayn whispered, falling to the floor next to the bed and brushed his hand over Niall’s cheek, pressing the button to alert Niall’s family and the nurse that there was a problem. Zayn’s eyes scattered all over Niall’s body, his face; everything. His skin was pale, much paler that usual and he was freezing cold, so Zayn layered Niall up in blankets. He wasn’t opening his eyes, either he wasn’t or he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to think about the reason behind that.  
Before Niall could respond, Zayn was being shoved to the side as Niall’s dad and the nurse came close to his side, and the rest was a blur. People were calling the hospital, demanding a doctor and an ambulance, and Zayn was fading in an out of consciousness, not wanting to pay attention to the conversations, but he couldn’t help it. Niall’s dad and the nurse were trying desperately to get Niall to wake up, whispering words to try and raise him. In the corner, Maura was crying into Niall’s brothers arms, and Zayn really wished he couldn’t he couldn’t hear what she was saying.  
“He’s going, my baby is going.” She was sobbing, and Zayn covered his ears and curled on the floor, reaching up to hold onto Niall’s hand, not noticing how Niall held back because he was so overtaken with tears and emotions to notice anything.  
The next ten minutes scared Zayn, quite a lot. Within a small amount of time the bed had been moved into the centre of the room, Zayn still hanging onto Niall’s hand, kneeling beside him and just stared lovingly at Niall. The doctors were on the other side, pumping in lots of oxygen, Niall’s heartbeat coming back again. The family were sitting on the opposite side of the room, looking over at Niall and just hoped, and prayed that he would be alright. The only thing that bothered Zayn was that someone, probably Maura, called Louis, Harry and Liam, so they were standing around the room and in the doorway’s, all looking at the floor.  
When the doctor’s managed to get a stable heartbeat, knowing that Niall was still alive, they moved away, giving Zayn the chance to stand up and sit beside Niall on the bed. It was obvious to everybody what was going on, it was happening.  
“Ni, babe,” Zayn whispered, looking down at his boyfriend. It was amazing how much he’d changed in the space of six months. Before, he was healthy; bright blue eyes, luscious blond hair and a figure Zayn would kill for. But now; dim blue eyes that looked dead at some points, no hair left and a body that was broken, bruised and skinny beyond words, and it hurt Zayn to look at him. Hurt to look at his once perfect boyfriend. He still was perfect, Niall would always be perfect in his eyes, but it wasn’t the same to anybody else. “Sweetheart…”  
“Zee…” Zayn looked up, tensed up and everybody in the room was now interested in what was happening. Niall’s heartbeat was the same; a constant line with a few long pauses every so often.  
“Baby,” Zayn asked quietly, tightening his grip on Niall’s hand, swallowing back everything because it was all coming true now, everything was going to tumble down and at the end of the day there would be no ZaynandNiall, there would just be Zayn.  
“Hurts.” Niall said quietly, his head leaning to the side to look at Zayn.  
“What does, love?” Zayn asked, looking for something that could be hurting his baby.  
“Everything.” Niall sighed, and Zayn’s heart cracked. He felt it, could feel the crack breaking its way into the organ, the heaviness hurting and dragging him down.  
“Keep going, please keep going.” Zayn quietly begged, and Niall shook his head.  
“Can’t… Hurts too much.” Niall was barely audible, and let out a choked cry, leading Zayn to stand up and lean over the bed, leaving no space for anybody to come near him. Right now, this was Zayn’s moment, this was Zayn’s boyfriend and nobody was going to stop him.  
“No… Sweet heart you need to. I need you too.” Zayn mustered out, his voice cracking and he could feel the tears burning at his eyes.  
“I’m so sorry,” Niall sniffled, his chest rising and falling even slower, eyes dropping close. “For everything. For not being able to stay and make you happy, for not being strong enough to stay and live with you, just- promise me one thing.”  
“Anything.” Zayn replied, his eyes not leaving Niall’s face for one second.  
“Don’t give up on yourself, on your dreams or your life. You have potential, so much potential and you can make so many people happy. You’re amazing, Zayn. You’re one of the most influential and amazing people I’ve ever met and I can never show you how grateful I am that you stayed with me, for me. You made me feel loved, made me feel love for someone, I never knew that could happen,” Niall took a breath, recomposing himself. “My train… Remember the train? My train is coming to its final station, and I can’t stop that. All I can say is that I will love you for the rest of my life, forever and always.”  
Zayn felt the tears sliding down his cheeks, dropping onto the sheets and left damp water spots all over them. “Niall…”  
“No, I’m not done. Zayn, you are the love of my life. That much is obvious, that much is true and you know that, I know you do. Every single thing you’ve given me or let me have will keep me happy in however many lives I go through… I’ve written this down, but I want to tell you it all. The envelope is in your jacket, I wrote it when I was in the hospital,” Niall sighed, his voice hoarse again and Zayn knew he couldn’t help by giving him water, not anymore. “Everything we’ve done together made me happy. You’ve given me the best life I could wish for in a short space of time. I shouldn’t be dying, nobody should die this early, but I can’t help it. Our first kiss, sudden and was in the hallways. Nobody knew, nobody saw apart from us, and it was so special and so simple that I knew it was real and we were something special. Our first time, my first time; you looked after me, made me feel so nice and never hurt me; you promised you wouldn’t and you kept it. First time saying I love you to each other. We were about to fall asleep at your place after having a Harry Potter movie marathon. You were holding me close, and you said it, and then fell asleep. I woke you up just to tell you I love you back, and I’ve never regretted saying it.”  
Zayn was full on crying now, the tears leaving his eyes at a rapid pace. He rested his head on the side of the bed, wanting to be as close to Niall as he could be. He felt Niall rest his head on top of his, placing his lips right by his ear so they were close, and so that this moment was private.  
“You’re special. You’re so, so special Zayn and I wish I could do something to prove that to you. All I want in life is to live with you forever, spend my entire life until we’re like eighty being with you, watching you and loving you with every living fibre of my body. I’m so fucking sorry that everything has ended up like this. I don’t deserve you, I really don’t. You’re flawless, perfect; every single amazing thing in the world is hidden inside you,” Niall let out a shaky breath, him now crying a little because he knew, he could feel it. His heart hurting, feeling like it was about to explode. “Whenever I look at you I see someone who deserves the world, but I also see someone who I love. I’ve never told you how beautiful you look when you’ve just woken up, your hair over your face and your eyes all tired and airy. I’ve never told you how amazing in general you are. You’re so caring, gentle and soft and I would do anything just for the opportunity to stay with you.”  
“Stop…” Zayn whispered brokenly.  
“I can’t… We need this talk. We need the death talk,” Niall cried, eyes shutting and breath coming out ragged. “When it happens, because it’s happening, you’re going to grieve; but I only want you to grieve for a while. I want you to let everything out, every last thing until you can’t focus, but then I want you to move on. Not forget about me, possibly move on and marry someone else, but you’re going to tell everyone about how you looked after me. So they see how perfect you actually are.”  
“I don’t want to live without you.” Zayn trembled, hand clutching onto Niall’s shit, which just so happened to be his shirt.  
“You have too… I can’t keep trying anymore.”  
“I love you.” Zayn screwed his eyes shut, openly sobbing on Niall’s chest now. He didn’t care that everyone could see him, him and Niall. His heart was breaking, being torn out of his chest.  
“I know you do; I really, really know it.” Niall chuckled dryly, his tears finding their way into Zayn’s hair. “And I love you too, more than words can express it. You’ve made me feel so special, so important, and nothing can ever show how much I appreciate it.”  
“I need you. I need you, Niall.” Zayn whimpered, eyes blurring from the tears.  
“I need you, too. Which is why I need you to promise me something. Promise you won’t give up, you won’t let this hurt you.”  
“You’re the love of my life.” Zayn whispered, shaking into Niall’s frame, feeling as weak and worthless as Niall said he did in the hospital.  
“I know. You’re the love of mine.” Niall replied softly, pressing several kisses to the same spot on Zayn’s face.  
“Don’t go. Don’t die on me.” Zayn quietly begged. He wasn’t prepared, he wasn’t emotionally ready to say bye to his baby, watch him talk to him for the last time.  
“I don’t want too. I can’t keep going, it’s not fair on either of us,” Niall swallowed, cutting Zayn off before he could say anything else. “I want to live, I want to be with you, I just can’t. If I stay here, keep trying then it’ll just be another waiting game until I bite the dust. I will be hurting myself even more, hurting you. You’ll be gaining hope again, thinking it could work out but it can’t.”  
“I can’t breathe when you’re not around. I haven’t lived a day of my life in the past three years where you haven’t been with me, haven’t been standing by my side. I don’t want to start now, I can’t start now. Fuck, Niall. You’re my everything, and I can’t even begin to imagine going on without you.” Zayn shook, thinking that if he held tightly onto Niall he wouldn’t go, but he knew that was ridiculous to think.  
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, for everything.” Niall murmured, lying back down, his body now too weak to sit how he was.  
“But I won’t be able to hug you, kiss you, snuggle with you…”  
“No, but you can always love me, and I’ll always love you.” Niall whispered, his body slowly dying, falling apart under Zayn’s hold.  
“No, baby please.” Zayn snivelled, holding as tight as he could on to Niall.  
“I’m so fucking sorry, Zee.” Niall bit on his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut as Zayn stood up, hands placed on to Niall’s cheeks as he pressed a gentle, loving kiss to Niall’s lips.  
“I love you. I love you… IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.” Zayn rambled out, shivering above Niall, and he wondered if this is what it felt like. If this is what heartbreak felt like, because it hurt a lot.  
“I know,” Niall smiled, his lips quavering and not staying secure. “I love you.”  
“I know.” Zayn cried, shaking his head because he didn’t want it to end like this.  
“Forever?” Niall asked, his grip on Zayn slowly loosening, making Zayn hold on even tighter.  
“And always.” Zayn murmured, eyes sore and throat hurting from keeping his cries in. Zayn leaned close to Niall’s face, brushing kisses all over his cheek, and one on his lips.  
“I love you.”  
And then he was gone. The monitor to the side beeped, a constant line and a sickening noise that Zayn didn’t want to hear. Niall fell still, hand completely letting go of Zayn, and Zayn shook, still crying silently. Because he was gone.  
After half a year of crying, trying and wanting it to work out, Niall was gone. Zayn would never see his eyes again, hear his laugh or feel his kiss, and his heart ached. Everything ached, matter of fact.  
“I know.”  
*  
A month had passed, a month since Niall had left and Zayn was now alone. Zayn hadn’t done much, moved much. He had permission to stay off school, spent the majority of his time in his room, barely eating, barely sleeping. But he had to get up today, because today was the day.  
It would be the last time he’d ever get to see Niall, last time he’d get to spend time around the people he’d grown to love, the last time he’d ever be able to address Niall as an important person to his life, because afterwards nobody would know.  
Zayn had been a big part in the planning of the funeral. He was the sole person who had every single decision run past him before it was confirmed. He picked the flowers (purple and white tulips), chose when type of coffin Niall would have (willow; it’s his favourite tree), the song they would play at the end of the ceremony (You Raise me Up, it’s their song) and who gets to speak and invited (and he reluctantly agreed to let Liam, Louis and Harry come).  
“Zayn, baby,” Zayn turned to look at the door, smiling ever so slightly when he saw his mum. “The car is outside. We’re all ready.” She smiled, and Zayn nodded, finishing up doing his tie, frowning when he couldn’t get it right. It was always Niall who would do his tie up correctly, made it look perfect and Zayn just lacked in it.  
“Okay,” Zayn nodded, shrugging on his blazer and turned to look at his mum, a smile on his face even though it didn’t spread through his face. He wasn’t glowing, he didn’t glow anymore. “Have you got my speech?”  
His mum nodded, holding up the small envelope with Zayn’s speech-like piece of writing he was intending on reading out, if he didn’t break down beforehand. “Come on, baby.” She said softly, holding out her hand for Zayn, but he didn’t take it, he just walked straight past her and down the stairs. He hated physical contact with people, since he couldn’t touch Niall anymore, and since Niall was the last person he touched, he wasn’t going to lose the feeling.  
Zayn walked straight out the house to the sleek black car, the one he assigned himself and Niall’s family too. There were two cars in total, one for Niall’s mum, dad, brother and Zayn himself, and then the other one for Zayn’s mum, Liam, Louis and Harry. When Zayn got in and sat down, secured his belt in, his eyes never once left the car in front of them, the one with Niall’s coffin in it. He just kept reminding himself that Niall was in there. His body, dressed in his finest clothes, probably looking as beautiful as he ever was. They’d decided as a group to have the coffin closed, but the curtains open, just so the presence of Niall was there and he could be seen in some aspects.  
The drive was agonisingly slow, and as the cars crept closer and closer to the crematorium, Zayn felt his heart start to hurt again, and he was in pieces before the cars even stopped. He was quick to get out of the car, not waiting for anybody to come to him or talk to him before rushing inside, not wanting to be seen and needed to get to his space. Within a few minutes (accompanied with a painfully sad piano performance), Niall’s coffin was brought in, and was placed on the table inside the curtains, and Zayn stared, and stared, and stared. He knew people would probably question what he was doing and why he looked so much, but he wasn’t going to owe them an explanation, he didn’t need to. Niall’s family came onto the same row as him, Zayn’s own mum sitting beside him, and, dreadfully, his three friends lining up next to him.  
A priest stood up at the stand, laying out papers that were sorted in a certain way, but Zayn held onto his speech. He wasn’t letting anybody see his speech before Niall got to hear him. There were leaflets scattered along the benches, with ‘In Loving Memory of Niall Horan’ scribed across the top in a cursive writing that Zayn had refused lots of times, but everyone insisted the font be used. Right in the centre, though, was the worst part. There was a photograph of Niall, of Niall and Zayn. Niall laughing with wide eyes, Zayn kissing his cheek, nuzzled into his side. Zayn didn’t pick that, because he refused to let anyone see the photos he had, so the Horan’s chose it. And he really wished he’d had some input now.  
“Good morning. Friends, family,” The priest started, holding his hands by his torso. “Here we are celebrating the short, but wonderful life of Niall Horan. A wonderful brother, son, grandson, friend and boyfriend,” Zayn tensed up. The word, boyfriend, it hurt. “Firstly, we have some words from his family, followed by a short poem agreed to be read out by friend Liam Payne. To finish the ceremony, we will have a speech, or a few words, from Zayn Malik. Thank you.” He walked off, and Maura stood up, walking to the stand with shaky legs. Zayn noticed her glance over to the coffin, and he let out a quiet cry, not pushing away Louis’ hand when it was put on his leg.  
“Those of you who new Niall would know that he never let anything get him down. He was popular, liked, happy and very loved by everybody who got to spend time with him. He was wonderful, always has been and always will be. It was the worst day of my life, of my family’s life, when we got the letter. Watching my little boy break down and cry when he read the words ‘terminal melanoma cancer’. It snapped my heart, and I knew nothing would be the same. Terminal. Cancer. The words are just sickening to hear, let along read after being addressed to your own child…” Maura started, and Zayn shook quietly in his chair. “There will never go a day when I don’t think about my little boy’s smile when he won his first trophy, bought home his first and only boyfriend, smiling as he introduced him,” There was a soft smile cast over to Zayn’s way, and he leaned into Louis, crying even more but tried his best to be quiet. “Niall always had people who loved him, and they always will do. Nothing ever stopped his feelings, he was constantly happy. He didn’t want to let the cancer beat him; he fought for months, and months, and months. He died at home, surrounded by his family and people who he loved most. Even closer to the person who he loved more than anything. I’m just asking one thing of fate, god or whoever is looking after Niall now; be kind to him.”  
Zayn covered his face with his hand, small sobs falling from his mouth like he was reliving the day Niall went again. Everything hit him in the heart, slapped him in the face, the realisation trying to prove itself to Zayn that Niall is gone and is never coming back.  
“Um,” It was Liam now, holding a few sheets of creased paper with shaky hands. “This is a poem called Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep, written by Mary Frye…” He mumbled, clearing his throat. “Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am the diamonds glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain; I am the gentle autumn’s rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die.” He read out, taking breaths at the appropriate times. There was a collective silence, people waiting as Zayn stood up and slid out the row, not acknowledging Liam as he walked past him to the podium. He stood still for a moment, looking out at the group of people, then to the side at Niall’s coffin. He took out the envelope, set it on the podium and took out the sheets of paper, with messily written words scribed over the lines, several crossings out and even more tear stains.  
“If you don’t know me; I’m Zayn,” Zayn started, unfolding the sheets. “I am Niall’s boyfriend. Am, not was. I’m never going to stop being that. Using the word was shows a change in emotions, it’s a past participle. Is, however; is a present word. Shows an action now. So, I didn’t love Niall… I do love him. When I was writing this, I didn’t know what to say, because everything I tried to write down sounded weird, or didn’t truly put forward what I thought and how I feel about Niall. I’m not over him dying; I don’t think I ever truly will be. For the past six months of my life I’ve worked my ass off looking after him, treating him like my entire world because that is exactly who he is to me. My life, the reason I’m still breathing. I remember when he first got the letter. We’d gone back to his house after school planning on having a movie night because it was Friday. That changed, for hours after that, four at the least, he sat in my lap on the kitchen floor, crying his eyes out until he couldn’t breathe anymore.  
I remember our first everything. Conversation, hug, kiss, time, hand holding, date, holiday. It’s wired into my brain, and at first I tried to write down everything, but it didn’t work. Plus, I felt like some things needed to be kept private, only for me and him to ever know,” Zayn took a breath, turning the first sheet over. “I ended up writing this at midnight, three days after Niall passed away, his last words to me repeating over and over in my mind. He told me he loved me, I said I love him too. ‘Forever?’ He asked, and I simply said always. He told me he loved me again, and I knew, I’ve always known. Nobody will ever understand how amazing it was to have a person like Niall, someone like him just to myself for nobody else to look at or see in the states I saw him. I’ve seen him at his happiest, saddest, when he was worried, confused, breathless… Everything I witnessed with Niall I feel blessed. Lucky beyond belief. I had the chance to be the person who made him smile, make him happy and enjoy life. And I am lucky for having him to make me happy. It is a two way thing, love; you have to give what you want to get it all back. That was how it was with Niall. I’d buy him cupcakes, he’d get me flowers. It was the best thing in the world.  
Every morning and every night if we weren’t together I would always get a cheesy morning message or sleep tight message, and I would always reply with a love heart. It was a routine, even when we weren’t together there would be a message of some sort. And so far I’m finding it hard to deal with. I have voice notes and voice mails of him recorded on my phone, and I play those again. I also have his phone, so I ring his phone to hear his voice and that message. Want to hear the message?” Zayn took his phone out, and Niall’s, ringing it so the voice mail came along.  
“Hi, this is Niall. Seems like you’ve reached my voice mail, sorry about this! I’m a bit busy or I’m sleeping. Text me or try again later. If you’re Li, Lou or Haz; you probably know where I am. And if it’s the rare occasion where this is Zayn, I’m so sorry I’m not answering. I love you, forever and always.”  
Zayn let the voicemail ring through a few times, shutting his eyes and let a few tears out. “Hearing those words, those three words with so much emotion I can feel it. I love you. Those three words are the worst and best thing to ever happen to me. There is so much raw emotion shown in what he’s saying, and it’s going to be weird not hearing those words every day. I think…. I think there’s a time where you find someone, you find a person, and they become your person. And that person is the one you want to live with for the rest of your life, the one you want to grow old with. Niall was that person, is that person for me. We talked about everything, children, pets, houses, vacations. Everything and anything that a couple talked about, those were the soul means of our conversations. They were my favourite types, when we were alone in a room, snuggled under blankets. We just talked, and talked, and talked for hours upon end, and there is nothing that I could’ve dreamt of then dying in those moments and lusting in them forever.  
The one thing that really made me feel loved, made me know that Niall and I were genuine, were in love and still are was the time where he trusted me to do something; take something from him that was his and only his. Our first time, and more importantly, his first time. As most of you could know, that act of intimacy is probably one of the most important ones. Because you’re offering yourselves to each other, and when Ni asked me, I was reluctant. I didn’t want to risk taking that from him to have him then regret it. But he was persistent, promised that he wanted it. So what could I do? He trusted me to look after him; he gave himself up to me. I felt so important there, and every time after that he felt like he could trust me, and that I would never hurt him.  
I mean it. I mean it whenever I say that Niall is my entire life. Ask anybody, they can tell you the exact same thing. Every day for six months I woke up at six am, changed, packed clothes for a few days in a rucksack and caught the bus to the hospital, so much that the driver didn’t have to ask if anybody was getting off here, because she knew. I walked in, sat down on my chair beside his bed, held Niall’s hand and never let go. I helped him in, poured him a glass of water and told him he was beautiful whenever he doubted himself. There was a time where he felt down, hit an all-time low. I wasn’t aware he felt like this, but I could sense something was wrong. He hurt himself, had a neat line of cuts up and down his arms. His family, I’m sorry for seeming offensive, took it badly. Shouted and stormed out. I, however, lay down and kissed the scars, telling him how beautiful he was and is. I’m not insulting how the Horan’s reacted, or trying to sweeten myself up, I just want to let everything out.  
There was a point a few months ago after Ni was discharged, our group of friends had met up and we were watching a film. Things happened; Louis shouted, screamed at everybody and hurt Harry. It made me feel so worthless. Like yeah, maybe I wasn’t being the best boyfriend I could be. It hurt, knowing that my supposed best friend was shouting these insults at me. Niall told them to leave, the group fell apart. Today is the first time I’ve seen them since Niall passed away, and honestly I did not want them there at the time, nor did I want them here. The last thing Niall told them to do was to leave, I mean. How can you live with the last thing a dying person said to you was telling you to leave? I couldn’t, so I’m beyond grateful that what I was told was that Niall loved me. I’m even more grateful that it’s me who got to be with him during his last words, hear him cry, tell me everything. It sounds selfish, liking how his last words were directed to me, but wouldn’t you like to be the face the love of your life saw before dying?” Zayn took another breath, moving onto the next sheet.  
“There are times when I felt like giving up… Walking out of the hospital and never looking back. Moving on from the chapter of my life that had Niall in it, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I was never able to look Niall in the eyes and leave. There was so much love and so much compassion in his wonderful blue eyes, and it hurt me to look away from him for a second. I’m not a quitter though; I don’t give up on people, especially people who mean the entire world to me. The past three years of my life have been the best ever. I’ve been through heaven and hell making Niall happy, making his life good. But that’s all I ever wanted to do. Make Niall happy, see Niall smile. It’s going to be hard, so ridiculously hard to keep going, but I need to. I promised him.” Zayn let out a shaky breath and walked over to the coffin, putting the paper on the coffin and smoothed his hands over the surface.  
“This part, this part is for Niall. I hope you don’t mind. Niall; I love you. You know you, you love me too, and I know that. I miss you; I miss you so much more than you know already. Each day is a challenge to get through because I can’t stand going through twenty four hours without seeing your face. I’ve had so many break downs, so many sad times where I’ve thought about coming to join you, but I couldn’t let that happen. I can’t break this promise to you. I know you’re here, you… you haven’t gone anywhere. I can feel you sometimes when I’m about to sleep, I can feel you in the room, hear your voice. I sound stupid, but it’s true. You marked me, changed me, and affected me in ways I can never explain. Because of you, I am who I am today. Without you, I wouldn’t be this strong, wouldn’t be going strong. Believe me when I tell you that you are perfect, flawless, there is nothing about you that I don’t like. Nothing I could or would change, even if I had the choice. You’re my love, my life, my other heart. My heart is empty, part of me is missing, my other half. The peanut to my butter, strawberry to my cream, apple to my eye. Everything that needs another half, you’re that to me. Always will be.  
I know I said I would try to move on, try my best to keep going and be happy with someone else but I can’t. You are the one I want to be with, the one I’ve always wanted to be with, and that is never going to change. Niall James Horan, you are and always will be the one who owns my heart, the one who looks after me when I’m sad, the one who can make my emotions change so dramatically that I can’t live a normal life. I don’t care though. I like that. I love having you change me, only for the better. I don’t care what people say, either that what I feel isn’t true love or that I’m too young to love you. Because I fucking love you. You’re the love of my life, my person, twin flame or twin soul. Mine. I hope your new train takes you on so many amazing adventures because god knows your last was did the same. I’ll be on that train with you, going through each step of your new life, right by your side. Believe me, baby, I will be. I love you, I love you so so so so so much. And god, please look after my baby. See you soon, Ni. I love you,” Zayn kissed the coffin, staying there for a while with his head touching the coffin. “And I know you love me too.”  
There was a silence, and Zayn looked over at the pianist with a nod of his head, and soon the opening to You Raise Me Up started playing, and Zayn lost it. Lay his head back down on the coffin, crying quietly to himself because this was it. The end, the end for him, the end for Niall, and the end for ZaynandNiall.  
“Zayn,” Zayn didn’t move his head, but welcomed the sound of Louis’ voice to his side. “Please, look at me.” Zayn cried, let out a sob and fell into Louis’ arms. He hated it, hated the feeling. Louis had someone, had his person, had his Harry to cuddle and love every day. Liam had his girlfriend, and then there was Zayn. Zayn who lost the love of his life, and was left alone. So young and heartbroken, and it wasn’t fair.  
“He’s gone.” Zayn whimpered, clutching onto the back of Louis’ shirt but made sure that he was still in contact with Niall’s coffin.  
“It was beautiful, the speech,” Louis said softly. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”  
“No,” Zayn shook his head, letting go of Louis and fell back onto the coffin, letting out all his tears. Everybody apart from the four of them had left to the reception, so Zayn could let everything out. “Don’t do that… Do.. Don’t make me feel even worse. He’s gone, it’s all real now. We can’t… we can’t have the life we dreamt of. My Niall, Louis. My Niall has been taken away from me.”  
Louis didn’t reply, didn’t know how to. Just placed a hand on the coffin and let Zayn grieve, let him whine and cry and sob, shaking to the point where he sunk to the floor, pulling a jacket further around him, and Louis recognised it as one of Niall’s old ones.  
“Mine.” Zayn whispered, his forehead resting against the side of the coffin as though it would connect him and Niall in some way. He repeated the word ‘mine’, over and over and over again, shaking to himself while Louis just looked on.  
And after a few more minutes, just before the last line of the song came across and echoed into the hall, Zayn let out a quiet sob.  
“I love you.”


End file.
